


Courting Gifts

by crimsonseekers



Series: Over to You [2]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-10-30 03:51:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20808068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonseekers/pseuds/crimsonseekers
Summary: Prowl's given the Construticons a chance - now they have figure out what they're supposed to do with it.





	1. Long Haul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long Haul thinks Prowl should shine like a diamond - glittering like one was an unintended side affect. Featuring your favorite love guru, Ultra Magnus.

“This isn’t working,” Long Haul announced dejectedly to the room. “He won’t respond to anything we do, and I’m pretty sure we’re just annoying him.”

“No slag, Captain Obvious,” Bonecrusher growled back, clearly irritated. “That doesn’t mean that any of us know what to _ do _ about it.”

“We’ve tried everything!” Scavenger whined, hitting the floor like a petulant newbuild. “What else can we do?”

“We impress him with our skills then!” Mixmaster declared confidently, though even a just a slight peak through the gestalt bond revealed his uncertainty in the matter.

Hook raised an optical ridge skeptically. “What skills? Are you suggesting we try and serenade Prowl with the sweet harmonies of a construction site?” Mixmaster groaned in defeat and flopped back to splay himself on the floor.

“What the frag do Autobots do then?” Bonecrusher asked. “And if a single one of you glitches say cuddle and hold hands, I’m throwing you out the airlock.” Mixmaster snorted.

“If it were any other ‘Bot I’d say that, but I think we’ve all seen Prowl sidestep you too many times to think it’s true.”

_ “Shut up.” _

“Don’t they court or something?” Scavenger offered. “I’ve heard about it.”

“They do,” Hook confirmed, “but it’s a fragging strict process that _ ends _ with bonding.”

“So why don’t we just see if there are some things we can replicate to make him comfortable with this?” Long Haul offered timidly. Hook hummed slightly.

“‘S weird thing - not sure of the specifics of each part, but I’m pretty sure you declare your intention to court, and if he accepts you, then you become court mates, then sparkmates, then conjunx, then intended, then bonded. Something like that. We’re basically doing this whole thing backward.”

“A bit hard to finish our relationship with a declaration of courting after we court him,” Mixmaster remarked sullenly.

“Shut it, smart aft, you know what I meant.”

“Okay, okay, that aside,” Long Haul said, trying to move past the conflict before Hook and Mixmaster started brawling, “I think we can safely cross out the intended and bonded steps - we’ve… already kinda passed that.” A collective, silent cringe. “So I _ think, _ and don’t quote me on this, I _ think _ we’re court mates - he said he’d give us a chance right? So isn’t that kinda like accepting an intention to court?” A moment of silence passed throughout the room as his gestalt mates considered his idea.

“That’s… _ one _ way to interpret it, I suppose,” Scavenger responded hesitantly.

“Got a better idea?” Bonecrusher asked. “‘Cause he sure won’t tell us anything.”

“Prowl’s just a private mech.”

“Read: _ stubborn,” _ Mixmaster grouched.

“So we’re court mates then,” Long Haul concluded. “What do court mates do?”

“Slag if I know,” Hook grumbled. “‘S buncha strict rules and do’s and don’t’s. ‘M pretty sure that even most ‘Bots don’t know what the frag all the rules are.”

* * *

Long Haul huffed as he ran after the (former) Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord.

“Ultra Magnus!” he called. “Ultra Magnus, sir!” The lumbering mech stopped and turned to face Long Haul with a raised optic ridge.

“Long Haul. Running is not allowed in the hallways unless in times of emergency.”

The Constructicon nodded sheepishly before plowing ahead with his question.

“You’re like, super good with the rules, right?” Ultra Magnus shuttered his optics at the inquiry before responding.

“I would deign to call myself well-versed in the subject matter, yes. Why do you ask?”

“What are the rules for court mates?” Long Haul asked brightly, enthusiastic at the prospect of making progress with Prowl. There was a long, drawn out pause as Magnus processed.

“Might I assume you mean the allowances in a courtship according to the Autobot Code?” At the excited nod Long Haul gave in return, Ultra Magnus cleared his vocalizer semi-awkwardly and continued. “I do have a meeting to get to, but the briefest explanation I can offer at this moment is that any gifts given must not be dangerous, offensive or derogatory, and the exchange of gifts must not interfere with the recipient's duties.”

“So you’re supposed to give gifts to a court mate then?”

“That is correct.”

“What’s a good gift, then?” Long Haul asked the SIC. “Is there some sort of standard gift that works in all situations, or is it supposed to be tailored to the court mate in particular.”

“I am uncertain of common gifts given amongst court mates,” Ultra Magnus responded, looking slightly uncomfortable and awkward with where the subject had led. “I may recommend someone with a more extensive experience than I have - perhaps talk to Rodimus? He is more versed in the matter of the spark than I myself am.”

* * *

“You seriously asked for help from Ultra Magnus and Rodimus?” Bonecrusher asked him incredulously. Long Haul ruffled his plating defensively.

“Well, Hook said that courting has a bunch of strict rules -”

“Don’t drag me into this mess.”

“- and who knows the rules better than Ultra Magnus? He just told me the basics of the rules for court mates according to the Autobot Code and told me to talk to Rodimus about gift ideas.”

“I don’t think Prowl and Rodimus share the same tastes,” Mixmaster chipped in, an amused smirk on his face.

“Well it’s too late now, I already sent it with one of the cleaning drones to his quarters earlier.”

“Maybe Prowl will enjoy the polish,” Scavenger offered, semi-genuinely.

“His finish is always matte, he doesn’t care for polish, _ especially _ if you got it off of Rodimus - I’m pretty sure the stuff that mech uses has some sort of metallic addition to it to shine that brightly.”

“I’m pretty sure that his paint is chromatic or metallic or something, and he uses some of that really expensive high-end stuff for his finish. Not possible to see yourself in a mech’s paint like that otherwise.”

“Yeah, pretty sure that kind of eye-catching look isn’t something Prowl’s into.”

“Well maybe he’ll try it and like it,” Long Haul tried, grasping at straws as his gestalt (who were _ supposed _ to be on his side, dammit) berated his feeble first attempt at a courting gift.

Bonecrusher looked at him for a long second before shaking his head. “Nah.”

Long Haul’s comm pinged, and turned around to take it, throwing a rude gesture in Bonecrusher’s direction as they all tittered and chuckled at his expense.

“Hello?”

“Yeah - Long Haul? It’s Rodimus. About that polish I gave you…”

“Do you want it back?” the Constructicon asked dejectedly, not particularly thrilled at the thought of having to ask Prowl to return something he had given him.

“Not exactly - I was just looking at the labels and I think I gave you the wrong tub - you haven’t given it to Prowl yet, have you?”

Long Haul froze. “Um… it’s not like I just gave him bleach or anything right?”

There was a pregnant pause across the comm system. “Well, slag,” Rodimus muttered.

Not a second later, Prowl opened the gestalt bond.

_ :: Which one of you gave me glitter polish, :: _ he asked stiffly as if put on the other end of a prank which… well, Long Haul could see why Prowl would view it that way.

“It’s glitter polish,” he said stiltedly. “I gave Prowl _ glitter polish.” _

His only response was a hiss of sympathy from Rodimus over comm and the roaring laughter of his gestalt behind him.

Long Haul slammed his head against the wall. The four other green and purple mechs only guffawed louder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus developed Long Haul's habit of being that one person who always checks to make sure that the product inside the box matches the label.
> 
> My [tumblr](https://crimsonseekers.tumblr.com)


	2. Bonecrusher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonecrusher has some bright ideas but forgets three very important rules. Featuring 'Not Paid Enough To Deal With This Many Emotionally-Stunted Idiots', Whirl.

Long Haul was a bit of a glitch-headed idiot - that much wasn’t hard for Bonecrusher to admit.

Sure, his gestalt mate’s frag-up with the polish was definitely funny at first (hilarious, peak comedy he would even argue), but it definitely stopped being so when Prowl gave _ all _ of them the cold shoulder for it for the next few days. Bonecrusher still didn’t fully understand _ why _ exactly Long Haul thought that Prowl would enjoy polish of all things (the mech had always been subtly dramatic, not flamboyantly so in a more Rodimus-esque fashion), but he felt as if he knew what kind of gift Prowl would want.

Something tasteful, yet not over the top (Bonecrusher swore he could still see a glimmer whenever Prowl walked past). Something of quality, that he wouldn’t drop after looking at it (Prowl walking around with a glittery left arm for several days was also definitely funny, but none of the Constructicons dared laugh, in fear that the silent-treatment they were getting would last even longer). Also, something of practical use, something that Prowl would appreciate and use _ (glitter polish _ \- Bonecrusher was almost afraid to ask what kind of circuit boosters Long Haul had been taking). But those were just broad categories, and he didn’t have anything concrete - so he decided to consult the best authority he knew on the subject matter (because _ Ultra Magnus? Rodimus? _ Ugh).

“Okay, wait wait wait, stop,” Whirl said tiredly, waving his claw in a halting motion as Bonecrusher talked. “I don’t particularly care for the details of your pathetic love life. Why the frag are you talking to me about this?”

“You’re pretty good at helping Cyclonus and Tailgate out - I thought that you’d have some advice,” Bonecrusher shrugged. Whirl groaned dramatically, throwing his head back fast enough for the bulldozer to cringe at the _ thud! _ that sounded when his head hit the wall that separated booths in the bar, before tilting his head back down to look at Bonecrusher, optic half-shuttered in an unimpressed fashion.

“Listen, kid -”

“I’m older than you -”

_ “Kid,” _ Whirl repeated, squinting his optic threateningly. Bonecrusher held his hands up amicably (normally he would be all for the fight, but he _ was _ trying to get something out of this conversation). “I don’t do pro bono work for just anyone -”

“Isn’t pro bono lawyers or something?”

“Don’t know, don’t care - but note that I am not paid anywhere _ near _ enough to deal with another emotionally stunted idiot, let alone six more.”

“We don’t get paid, though,” Bonecrusher responded confusedly, tilting his head.

“Exactly,” Whirl confirmed, bonking him on the head with his claw as if trying to pet him like some sort of domesticated organic. “I’m not a generous mech, I’m already doing that problematic case for free, and I don’t have the goodwill nor do I care enough to deal with you as well. Cyclonus at least gets angry when I try something.”

“Prowl gets angry a lot, too.”

“Yeah, but he doesn't have any _ morals,” _ Whirl whined, stretching his (objectively and subjectively too long) neck and head over the table petulantly. “It’s no fun trying to break someone who has literally no self-control.”

“Big help you are then,” Bonecrusher grumbled, pushing himself out of the booth.

“Just get him a gun or something,” Whirl called at his back. “Then when he gets angry, he’ll kill somebody and at least it’ll be funny!”

* * *

One trip to (a far too enthusiastic) Brainstorm and a newly acquired acid-pellet rifle later, and Bonecrusher walked up to the table where Prowl and Nautica sat, and proudly placed the case onto the counter. Whatever the two had been talking about (nothing important, Bonecrusher was sure) tapered off, and Prowl looked from Bonecrusher to the box and back again, looking at him with a skeptically raised optic ridge.

“For you,” Bonecrusher offered, not even trying to hide the note of pride in his voice. Prowl scrutinized him for a few seconds longer, before sighing and beginning to flip the latches on the case.

“This better not be glitter polish again, or I _ swear…” _ he trailed off ominously, though the threat was clear.

“Nope!” he chirped happily. “You’ll love it.”

A moment passed in tense silence as Prowl lifted the lid and shuttered his optics in surprise. He slowly (almost _ reverently, _ Bonecrusher liked to think) drew the rifle out of the case, testing the weight in his hands. 

“Oh, wow…” Nautica whispered - Bonecrusher preened at that, it was nice to know even the Camien who skipped the war could appreciate a good weapon. Prowl ran his criticizing optics along the barrel, lifting it up and testing the stock against his shoulder. After a few moments, he deigned to look at Bonecrusher.

“How did you -?”

“OI!” a loud voice cut him off, and all three mecha snapped their heads around to look at Swerve, who had Ten looming threateningly behind him. “What are the three rules of this bar? No swords, no _ guns,” _ he pointed at the firearm Prowl held, “and no briefcases!”

Later, Bonecrusher realized that he should have thought through his gift-giving location a bit more as he left Ultra Magnus’ office and Prowl was called in, who only gave him a cold glare as he walked past him into the office.

Whirl found it _ hilarious, _ and there was no doubt that the rest of his gestalt did as well - Long Haul certainly didn’t let him live it down while they ruthlessly ordered drink after drink as he served out his punishment detail as a waiter in Swerve’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonecrusher: rip to long haul but im different
> 
> My [tumblr](https://crimsonseekers.tumblr.com)


	3. Scavenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things go wrong for Scavenger before he can even talk to Prowl - and it's not even his fault. Featuring exasperated best friend Ten.

“So he _ definitely _ doesn’t want anything extravagant - I think that was proved with the with the whole glitter polish thing.”

“Ten.”

“But he does like things that are made for him - I think he kept the acid pellet rifle one Ultra Magnus gave it back.”

“Ten.”

“I just gotta be sure that what I give him doesn’t break any of the rules, or else Ultra Magnus _ and _ Prowl will be mad at me, and I think they’re already mad enough at us as it is.”

“Ten?”

“They view everything we do as a collective group decision, despite the fact that we are definitely _ not _ responsible for whatever sticky situations Bonecrusher gets himself into.”

“Ten.”

“But what to give him?”

“Ten,” the bot said, waving Scavenger over from where he had draped himself across one of the workbenches in the Legislator’s quarters. Looking over his shoulder, Scavenger watched as Ten sketched out an idea.

“... Flowers? That’s pretty organic.” Ten shook his head in the negative. “Um… it’s starting to look like a point? A sword? I’d have to give that to him in Swerve’s, because it’s the only place we can find him off shift, and you _ know _ how Swerve feels about people breaking the rules.” Nope. Try again. “... Crystals?” Ten nodded enthusiastically, scratching in a few lines on the rough sketch of a crystal cluster he had just drawn. “Crystals with… glyphs?” Ten tilted his hand in a ‘sort of’ motion. “Decorated crystals?” Nod.

Scavenger brightened, throwing his arms around Ten, who let out a surprised “Ten!” at the sudden hug.

“Thanks, Ten!” he called as he raced out of the room. “You’re the best!”

* * *

Scavenger positively would have been _ beaming _ if he had a mouth as he walked into Swerve’s.

He’d picked up a few crystals from a local trash yard while they were docked on Scarvix, and one of them was a delightfully vibrant red that he believed matched Prowl’s chevron beautifully. With some help from Ten, he’d managed to polish the rough rock to a beautiful shine, now with patterns inlaid with bright, shining gold. He’d even checked with Ultra Magnus to ensure that there were absolutely no obscure regulations being broken and painstakingly written out _ ‘For Prowl’ _ in his neatest glyphs on a little card he attached to the box the crystal was wrapped up in.

He bounced on the balls of his pedes as he spotted Prowl from across the bar, and began to head over, exultant at the chance to -

_ “BOB STOP!” _

\- give it to him.

Give Prowl the crystal that was now in the stomach of an _ Insecticon. _

Scavenger felt his vents stall as the gift he had spent the past several days laboring over in Ten’s workshop go down the maw of an _ Insecticon. _

A dead silence fell over Swerve’s, broken only by the struggling noises as Sunstreaker attempted to get Bob to stop trying to squirm away.

He could hear Bonecrusher snort - probably thought that it was good payback for all the fun that they had poked at him when _ his _ attempt at courting Prowl didn’t work out.

Scavenger could _ feel _ everybody’s optics on him - staring, judging, looking at him as if he were an idiot for thinking this could work.

His vents stuttered and his vocalizer clicked as he tried to make a sound, before turning on his heel and running out of the bar.

* * *

“Scavenger, just come out!”

“NO!”

“Ten.”

“No. I’m staying here forever - you can’t make me go out there!”

“Ten.”

“I don’t care! They all think I’m stupid now and none of them will ever respect me again! I can’t show my face to anybody now!”

“Ten…”

“You can’t make me!”

“Hey, Scavenger!” Bonecrusher called again, pounding on the door to Ten’s quarters. “I’m sorry, okay? Now get your aft out here before Hook castrates me!”

“NO!”

There was a heavy sigh.

“Mixmaster made rust sticks - I’ll give you my share if you just move your aft out here, okay?”

Scavenger considered the proposal for a moment, before curiously cracking the door open just a smidge. “Promise?”

Bonecrusher cycled his optics dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, I promise. Now let’s get moving before Hook decides we’re taking too long!”

“... okay,” Scavenger answered slowly emerging from behind the door, tagging along dutifully behind Bonecrusher. “Bye, Ten!”

“Ten,” the Legislator groaned long-sufferingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> scavenger poor baby :(
> 
> also yes i know sunstreaker stayed on cybertron after the dark cybertron event but canon is what i want it to be so canon is invalid.
> 
> anyway, this was a bit of a short one but just know that scavenger is the closest to successful any of these dolts are going to get.
> 
> My [tumblr](https://crimsonseekers.tumblr.com)


	4. Mixmaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mixmaster falls to the same woes as Bonecrusher - but in a uniquely different and somehow worse fashion. Featuring relationship counselor/bartender Swerve!

“Scavenger come out of hiding yet?” Swerve asked absently as he and Mixmaster wiped down the bar, seeking to make some conversation out of the silence.

“Bonecrusher tracked him down to Ten’s quarters,” the chemist grunted in response. “Bribed him with some rust sticks I whipped up to get him out. Still runs whenever he sees Prowl coming his way, though.”

“Most socially-awkward person I’ve ever met, and I’m definitely including Ultra Magnus in that count.”

“Nah. They’re weird about it in different ways, and even so, Mags just _ can’t, _ nobody beats him.”

“Fair.”

After a few more moments, Swerve spoke again. “So what _ are _ you lot trying to accomplish? ‘S been confusing me for the past few weeks.” Mixmaster heaved a heavy sigh in response, scrubbing the table he was working on even more aggressively than before.

“Tryin’ ta court him.”

A beat passed.

Swerve snorted. “Oh my _ God, _ that’s _ priceless.” _ In his defense, the minibot seemed to make an active effort to suppress his laughter, but it didn’t last long before he was spilled over the table, beating his fist against the surface in mirth. Mixmaster scowled sullenly. “You guys are _ failing _ so _ bad.” _

“‘S fraggin’ clear, thank you, Captain Obvious,” Mixmaster snapped, whacking the minibot atop the head. Swerve made an odd noise that was a mixture of giggling and a cry of pain. Mixmaster found that he suddenly didn’t have the sympathy for the bartender to care.

“Okay, okay,” Swerve breathed, calming down, though there was still a wide smile across his face, and Mixmaster knew, he just _ knew, _ that by the end of tomorrow the entire ship would know what they were up to. “You’ve just been making some rookie mistakes, that’s all.”

“It wouldn’t be that way if you Autobots weren’t so fragging _ weird _ about everything.”

Swerve shrugged helplessly. “Few million years at war, think a few things were bound to change eventually.”

“Still shouldn’t be this _ difficult.” _

“Trust me, everybody has had a colossal frag up while courting at least once in their life,” Swerve assured, though Mixmaster wasn’t sure he could take the exaggerating ‘bots words at face value. The bartender’s face twisted. “Well, maybe not always to the degree you’ve been getting wrecked, but still! It’s simple, Long Haul relied on Rodimus for someone like Prowl, mistake should explain itself -”

“Surprised he didn’t think of the problem himself honestly.”

“- and Bonecrusher forgot regulations, and Scavenger, well,” Serve frowned. “Yeah, Scavenger just got a case of really bad luck, y’know?”

“I know, everybody saw that.”

“Yeah.”

After a moment of staring at each other, Mixmaster prompted Swerve. “So, if you’ve got so many critiques of what I’m doing, you even got the bearings to tell me what I could do better?”

“You’re all trying to be extravagant and over the top, you gotta start simple, less ways it can go wrong,” Swerve assured. “Nice bottle of engex? Usually a good start. Offer to share it on a date or something and he might take you up on it.” He held his hands up defensively almost as soon as he finished speaking. “Don’t quote me on this though, I’ve never really dealt with anyone like Prowl. Actually, I don’t think anyone has. Not successfully at least.” He gave the considering Constructicon a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Give your best shot though, yeah?”

* * *

“Prowl!” Mixmaster called as he burst onto the bridge, immediately silencing the room and causing heads to turn and stare at him, before the almost simultaneous turn to where his quarry stood, elegant doorwings hitched high on his back, directing him to his objective.

“Can I help you, Mixmaster?” the black and white ‘bot asked him as he approached, doorwings twitching oddly as he slowly (almost menacingly) turned to face him as he approached.

“Nope!” he chirped happily, holding out a bottle of engex he had brewed, had Bonecrusher (eagerly) sample, with a beautiful black and white bow wrapped around the neck, held in place by some red wax he scrounged out of Scavengers pile of scrap he had lying around.

Prowl cycled his optics.

“I, uh,” he started awkwardly. “Thank you?” he said, taking the bottle hesitantly. “But could we talk later? I’m on shift right now.”

“Yes!” Mixmaster cheered. “I want to know if you would like to -”

An ominous shadow fell over them, and Prowl’s optics widened and doorwings sagged and he gazed at something above Mixmaster’s head, and the Constructicon trailed off as he turned around, feeling as if he knew what was happening.

“Mixmaster,” Ultra Magnus, ex-Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord and current SIC of the _ Lost Light, _ grumbled. “I would prefer if you did not attempt to proposition my subordinates while they are on shift.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mixmaster please think about what you're doing
> 
> My [tumblr](https://crimsonseekers.tumblr.com)


	5. Hook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hook decides to go the classy and elegant route - in a simple idea offered by fanfic trope extraordinaire, First Aid.

“So…” First Aid started, not-so-subtly sliding up to Hook in the medibay. “Prowl, eh?”

Hook groaned. “How is this the first time you’ve realized _ any _ of this is happening?” The new Chief Medical Officer held his hands up defensively.

“Hey, I don’t make assumptions, this is just what I’ve heard down the grapevine.”

“And what purpose does telling me things I already know serve?”

“Well, I mean you’re obviously not clanging yet -”

“Clearly, Mr. I-don’t-make-assumptions.”

“- so I thought maybe you could use a little advice.”

“First Aid, what kind of advice could _ you _ possibly offer me?” Hook asked the other medic skeptically. First Aid’s EM field gave a confident pulse.

“I’m well-read in the art of love -”

“Aid, please, your trashy self-insert Wreckers fanfiction does not count in any capacity.”

“It is _ not _ trashy!”

“‘And then Springer held you against his broad, firm chassis, whispering in your audial -’”

“Oh my God, shut _ up,” _ First Aid whined, smacking Hook’s shoulder as he grinned. “How do you even _ know _ that?”

“You forget to log out of the terminal wherever you go off shift.”

“... Son of a _ glitch.” _

“So while your ‘love advice’ might work for snaring somebody with a chest wide enough to fit twelve Matrixes -”

“One day you’ll keel over and I’m not going to be the one to resuscitate you.”

“- I am of the belief that Prowl would only be able to fit four Matrixes in his chest, so your advice would be less than ideal at best.”

“Have you seen his bumper? He could fit at least seven in his chest, easy.”

“I’ll cap it at six.”

“Six out of twelve matrixes, fifty percent effectiveness,” First Aid declared triumphantly. “A higher success rate than whatever you lot have been doing.” Hook sighed.

“Fine. Can’t get any worse than glitter polish.”

“Get someone to lock you in a closet and not let you out until you discuss your feelings for one another.”

“It took over a year before he’d even _ talk _ to us, we’ll starve to death.”

“Give him really thoughtful gifts and make him fall in love with you.”

“That’s the current reason why he’s not talking to any of us.”

“Accidentally kiss him and be really awkward about it afterward and develop feelings for each other.”

“He might actually murder us then, and he’s petty enough to come for you as well.”

“Accidentally reveal your feelings for him and have him come to the realization that he loves you as well.”

“That’s literally the summary of the past year for us, excluding any feelings gained for us. The timeline doesn’t check out here.”

“Get snowed in and have a heart to heart.”

“That’s literally the same as the closet one, and we’re on a _ ship, _ not Delphi.”

First Aid huffed. “Fine, just get him some crystal flowers or something, see if I care.”

* * *

So Hook had spent several hours chipping crystals in petals, sanding, smoothing, and polishing them to perfect before arranging them in a flower bouquet - First Aid had at least one good idea, what was there to be made of it?

And - learning from the mistakes of his gestalt, had double-checked the regulations with Ultra Magnus, made sure that all destructive elements (ie Whirl, Sunstreaker and Bob, Rodimus) were absent from Swerve’s bar, and that Prowl was off shift. It was perfect.

“These are for me?” Prowl asked as he presented the shimmering bouquet. “Thank you,” he said, taking them gingerly, running his fingers along the fine edges of the crystal.

There was one factor that Hook hadn’t thought about, hadn’t even considered - mainly because it hadn’t happened so spectacularly yet.

“WATCH OUT!” Tailgate cried, just before he slammed into Prowl, hoverboard going flying.

Hook felt his energon run cold as Prowl fell to the floor, the crystals shattering against his chest.

There was a dead silence around the bar.

“I’m so so so sorry!” Tailgate apologize profusely, scrambling over to help Prowl up, but they froze as a loud _ CRUNCH _ emitted from the black and white ‘bot.

“Wait, wait,” Hook said. “Don’t move, I think you have shards in your joints.”

“Fantastic,” Prowl muttered bitingly.

“I’m really sorry,” Tailgate said, continuing to apologize as Hook opened a comm line to First Aid.

“I need you to bring a stretcher down to Swerve’s - Prowl’s got crystal shards in his joints and I don’t want to move him much,” he reported blankly. There was a heavy pause over the line.

“... _ Crystal shards?” _

“Crystal flowers, Mr. Love guru. They break real easy when crashed into by Tailgate.”

Hook hung up when First Aid didn’t stop laughing, carefully avoiding looking at Prowl’s severely unimpressed face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> are you telling me that first aid never wrote wreckers fanfiction because if you are then you're wrong
> 
> also coming up with all those fanfic tropes i feel like i was calling myself out and it hurt.
> 
> My [tumblr](https://crimsonseekers.tumblr.com)


	6. DevesDATEor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow it took until now for the Constructicons to get it together.

“You’re avoiding Prowl, aren’t you?” Nautica asked, having cornered them on the observation deck on the seventh floor. Mixmaster scoffed indignantly.

“Of course not. That’d be stupid.”

“Really?” She sounded severely unimpressed - which, Scavenger supposed, she had right to be - he knew his gestalt would never admit to it, but he himself at least had been very blatantly avoiding Prowl. “So you normally you five go out of your way to talk to him whenever you see him, yet he hasn’t seen plating or kibble of you in at least a week?”

“We’ve been busy,” Bonecrusher said defensively, crossing his arms and looking determinedly away. “Things to do. Our lives don’t revolve around Prowl, y’know?”

“Oh, yes, they absolutely do. Have you met yourselves?”

“She’s not wrong,” Long Haul muttered before getting whacked by Hook.

“Point is, you’re avoiding him and he’s _ definitely _ noticed.”

“What difference does it make?” Mixmaster asked her sullenly. “Pretty sure he still hates us anyway.”

Nautica raised an optic ridge skeptically, skillfully, one could argue - it wasn’t easy to make five war veterans squirm quite as much as they did under her scrutinizing gaze.

“Do you seriously think Prowl’s the kind of mech where if you were annoying him he wouldn’t say anything about it?”

“Honestly, I think he’d murder us in our sleep,” Scavenger responded quietly.

“Oh, definitely,” Nautica agreed easily. “So he hasn’t even said anything about you or asked you to change anything and you’re responding like this?” She tutted. “Install a strut, Primus.”

“You definitely did not see the way he glared at me while I was waiting for First Aid to get to Swerve’s with a stretcher.”

“You didn’t even look at him, so you can it.”

“Okay, so what if he doesn’t hate us?” Long Haul asked blandly. “He gave us one chance, and I’m pretty sure we’ve ruined it by now.”

“He hasn’t _ explicitly _ revoked that chance though, has he?”

There was a moment of pause as the Constructicons looked at each other contemplatively.

“Not _ really.” _

“Exactly! So now you just gotta swoop in with a romantic apology, and all will be well again.”

Hook scoffed derisively. “Taking ‘romantic’ advice is how we got into this situation in the first place.”

“Ah, but here’s the thing,” Nautica began smugly, “you’ve been asking advice from people who are nothing like Prowl, or don’t even particularly care or know about him in the first place.”

“Yeah, I’d call your whole demeanor pretty different from his as well,” Scavenger stated dryly.

“I’ve made it this far as his friend though, haven’t I?” The Constructicons shared another considering look. The Camien had by far the most success in communicating with the stoic mech out of everybody on board the _ Lost Light. _ “You just gotta cater to his tastes. You know what he’s like, what he’s into, get him something related to that. Check his shift to keep him out of trouble with Ultra Magnus, and ask him somewhere private - he’s not huge on the whole ‘public’ thing, you get me?”

* * *

And that was how, after four days of grinding and chaotic teamwork, the Constructicons presented Prowl with a hand-crafted chessboard on the first-floor observation deck. Carved out of fine stone and marble collected by Scavenger, accentuated with gems collected by Long Haul (the designated Scavenger sparkling-sitter when exploring). Bonecrusher strategically broke the pieces down into usable pieces, Hook carefully carved each playing piece to perfection, while Mixmaster made high-quality polishes and gold and silver paint for elegant accents upon the board. They had managed to get the observation deck to themselves by bribing Whirl into keeping everybody else out.

Prowl, having surprisingly shown up with nothing more than a brief comm alert to go there after a week and a half of not seeing nor hearing from any of them, cycled his optics at the glistening board.

“We want to start fresh,” Hook began.

“We know that our last few gifts haven’t exactly been… _ good,” _ Bonecrusher admitted reluctantly

“But we wanted to show that we’re serious about this,” Mixmaster amended.

“Please allow us to keep courting you,” Long Haul requested determinedly

There was a tense, heavy pause as they waited for Prowl’s answer.

“I wasn’t going to ask that you stop,” he answered. He looked away uncomfortably when their optics snapped to him in surprise. “I’ve seen far worse attempts at courting before, you don’t even scratch the top hundred worst mistakes,” Prowl said wryly, before shifting his gaze further. “No one’s ever taken such a dedicated interest in me before, and I suppose I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t flattering.”

“‘S because you’re worth it,” Scavenger added quietly. Prowl’s gaze snapped to him in surprise, making the Constructicon squirm. “What? ‘S true.”

Prowl chuckled, surprising them.

“Then I suppose that I better step up my game to match,” he responded. “What?” he asked in reply to their shocked looks. “You can’t expect me to continue to be outclassed like this, do you?”

“I’m sure you could school any of us at the actual _ game, _ though,” Mixmaster added.

“Then do you want to play?”

“Frag no!”

The first player against Prowl was eventually decided to be Hook, as he was the only one who actually knew all fo the rules besides Prowl. Bonecrusher and Mixmaster kept up a lively (if inaccurate) commentary of the game, while Long Haul and Scavenger cheered on their gestalt mates, despite not being entirely sure what was happening.

When Prowl was sinking into recharge later that night, he smiled. Perhaps this chance was worth it after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of Courting Gifts! I hope everybody enjoyed this story!
> 
> My [tumblr](https://crimsonseekers.tumblr.com)


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